Crossing the Line
by xSuchSweetNothingx
Summary: There is a fine line between hate and love. How many times can that line be crossed before you settle on one side? Rated M for Profane Language and Mature Situations. Studentward / Studentella . Possessiveward. Jerkward. Snarkella. AH. HEA. High School.
1. Wrecking Ball

**Crossing the Line**

_Chapter One: __**Wrecking Ball**_

* * *

The first time I saw him, on my first day of Junior year in my new school, I wasn't impressed - I couldn't understand why Jessica was talking about him as if he were some Adonis who was deserving of the many women who dropped to their knees in hopes that he might glance in their direction. Which he hardly ever did.

His hair was a pathetic mess, literally looking like nothing more than an abundance of knots and filth in fiery red and dirty brown tones. His eyes were green, which I suppose is unique, but they were so un-remarkably dull in their darkness that they did nothing for his face. His lips were puffy and grossly chapped - so terribly dry that I could see the crusted lines that indented them as they moved quickly with undoubtedly obnoxious words from my place across the room. His skin appeared to be in equal desperation for moisture, and was blotched with fifty different shades of red.

I do recall my mother saying to me - at some point in my life - that it's not good to 'judge a book by it's cover', so I dug deeper, looking for something in his character or accomplishments that would make him so desirable to all these people.

According to various reliable sources, he wasn't particularly smart, with an estimated GPA of 2.6 that probably wasn't even due to his own intelligence. The latter information I learned from a girl named Angela Weber who I'd met in Algebra II last period, when she'd gushed over her interactions with him - all of which involving him asking her for answers on something in one class or another.

Mike, who had sat on my other side in Algebra II, informed me that, though he had been on the school's football and baseball teams since freshman year, he was an average athlete at best. And I might have passed his words off as bitter jealousy just from the distaste he spoke of him with, but Tyler, who I'd met in my Spanish class first period, had said something similar. So that was out, too.

And with a name like _Edward_ . . . It just didn't make any sense.

How had this insignificant, hardly attractive, annoyingly loud and obnoxious, mediocre-at-best athlete and apparently simple-minded boy managed to get the entire female population of Forks Academy quivering in his wake? _  
_

My school back in Arizona held boys _twice_ as attractive as him on the lowest level of the totem pole of the social hierarchy that rules most schools.

"The one in the green shirt?" I'd clarified, doubting that this could be the boy who I'd heard whispers of all day - well, the whole two periods before I'd had the complete displeasure of laying my eyes on him.

Jessica's confirmation came with distracted eyes and a yearning voice. And she wasn't the only one looking. Taking a quick glance around the gymnasium - wondering where the hell the teacher was since the bell had rung nearly ten minutes ago - I'd noticed that almost everyone was looking at him.

At Edward Masen.

My eyes rolled of their own accord.

These people were either partially blind or just plain stupid, because this boy was entirely resistable, undesirable, and really just unnecessary.

And when I glanced over at him, the phrase '_what the hell is he doing?_' ran through my head. And '_why is he running over here?_' followed it.

"Give it to me, baby!" he called mockingly to his friends, looking back at them as he ran towards me, making a complete ass out of himself.

I wanted to drop my head into my hands. Who says shit like that? It takes a special kind of idiot -

I really should have dropped my head into my hands, cause in the next second, while I was busy scowling at unremarkable Edward, a hard object collided with my face with so much force that I slid back off the edge of the bleacher, falling into the space between the row I'd been sitting on and the row above.

When my ears finally stopped ringing, I picked up on two sounds.

The second was the frantic voices of the girls crowded around me, asking me if I was okay and if I wanted to go to the nurse.

The first? Laughter.

_Chuckling._

It was him - Edward.

My eyes snapped open to glare at his unsightly face. "What the fuck are _you _laughing at?" I'd spat at him, ignoring the shocked gasps of the girls around me.

"Sorry." The word was entirely insincere.

"You look it."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch." His eyes rolled. "It was an accident," he drawled before turning back around and walking back towards his friend, tossing the soccer ball that had collided with my face into the air as he went.

He was such a fucking asshole.

Jessica's voice interrupted my internal damnation of his arguably non-existent soul. "Do you want me to take you to the nurse?"

I shot her a dirty look as an answer.

It was then that the teacher finally decided to show up. "You have the permission to address me as General Arson." Is every single person in this school fucked up in the head? "Alright, Privates. Let's get you organized into squads." 'General' Arson then proceeded to perform a head count of everyone in the room, and split us up into groups of four.

How did I end up in a group with that asshole and his two goonies, Emmett and Jasper?

The world was out to get me.

"Look who it is," the asshole smirked as I walked over to our designated spot. All three of them were already seated. "Isabella Swan, is it?"

Skin crawling, I plopped down on the ground as far away from him as I could get without making a scene.

"See that guys? She's ignoring me." _He _ignored _my_ glare, instead choosing to continue antagonizing me, saying, "Isn't that rude?"

They nod their heads, guffawing as my blood pressure spiked with irritation. "And talking about people as if they can't hear you isn't rude?" I asked.

When he rolled his eyes for the second time, I imagined pouncing on him, pushing my fingers into his eye sockets, and pulling his eyeballs right out of his head.

Nobody had ever _infuriated _ me the way that he managed to do in my entire life. And I've only actually _known_ him for a total of twenty minutes.

"Do you always behave like a child?" I asked him, "Or is this only for my benefit?"

"She's feisty," the bulky one, Emmett, remarked, nudging the asshole with his elbow.

"_She's _sitting right here." I was absolutely boiling. All I wanted to do was get as far away from these boys - _him_, especially - as quickly as possible._  
_

The asshole started flapping his puffy, crinkly lips again. "She kinda cute when she's angry."

'_I'm going to kill him,' _I'd thought to myself, searching the room for something that would take my mind of my current issue.

The eyes of every girl in the room were pointed at the corner we were sitting in. Some girls had their eyes locked on the boys. Most of them were trained on _him _though, as unbelievable as it was. Other girls looked at me with green eyes, clearly wishing that they had been offered my position.

I would have gladly traded places with any one of them.

When the General Arson started talking again, I sighed in relief. "We're gonna run through some warm-ups. Partner up with one member of your squad and then go over and stand at attention on the blue line."

How did I know that I'd end up being paired with the asshole himself?

* * *

_. . . came in like a wrecking ball . . ._

_. . . never hit so hard . . ._

_. . . all you ever did was wreck me . . ._

_. . . yeah, you, you wreck me . . ._

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Just something to keep me writing whenever I get stuck on my other fics. It's not a big priority at the moment, so updates will come slow.__  
_

_This will probably end up being more of a drabble-type fic._

_And, just saying - this Edward is actually based off of someone I know. Chapped lips and all._

_As always, leave me your thoughts!_

* * *

**_~ Madison ~_**


	2. Am I Wrong

**Crossing the Line**

_Chapter Two: __**Am I Wrong**_

* * *

"Bella!" Jessica called after me as I stormed into the girls locker room. "Wait up!"

I really didn't feel like dealing with her awaiting questions on how '_amazing_' it was being gym partners with _the _Edward Masen.

God, he was _such_ an _asshole_. As if what General Arson instructed us to do wasn't hard enough, Edward purposely made me feel additionally uncomfortable. Especially with the barrel role - which is a bullshit exercise anyway. Obviously, I was not strong enough to carry the weight of Edward's legs, so I was the barrel, forced to walk across the monumentally-sized gym on my hands while he ogled and called attention to my ass, pointing out _multiple times _that he could see it because my shorts were riding up.

"You do squats?" he had asked me at one point, suggestively, a sly grin on his stupid face.

Then I got in trouble for kicking out of his hold and walking across the gym _like a normal human being_. On two _legs_.

"Isn't he something?" Jessica swooned, leaning up against the locker next to mine and putting a hand over her heart in adoration. "What I wouldn't give for _one night _with that man . . ."

Man? Is _that _what she considered to be a man? Edward certainly didn't fit my definition of the word. "Yeah," I scoffed, shaking my head as I pulled my shorts down my legs. "He's a real _gift_." I discarded the shorts into the locker and started putting on my jeans. "What is your fascination with this kid?" I ask. "I mean, you _do _realize that he's a total asshole, right?"

She laughed, nodding, and more girls started to crowd around us, listening to our conversation as they dressed themselves. "Yeah, he is. Probably one of the biggest assholes I've ever met. But one of the hottest, too." Several girls nodded in agreement.

"He's not even good looking!" I tried to reason with her.

A girl, I think her name was Lauren, stepped forward, adjusting her breasts in her too-small bra as she gasped, "You _seriously _don't think he's hot?"

"Not even remotely," I answered. I pulled my backpack out of my locker then, slinging over my shoulder and slamming the door closed. "And I can't understand why any of you would even be slightly attracted to him. He's nothing but a dickwad, incapable of functioning as a normal human being. Did you not see what he was doing to me in there?"

"He's was _flirting _with you, silly," Jessica smirked, rolling her eyes. "He's a little rough with his playfulness, but he wasn't trying to _humiliate _you."

I was pretty sure he _was_ trying - and succeeding - to humiliate me. And I didn't appreciate it. At all. "Then what was he trying to do?" I asked critically.

"Just tease you a little bit. Make you blush," she giggled, "which you did. A lot."

These girls were so far gone, there was no bringing them back to their level heads. They were just going to have to live with the misconception that they . . . _ugh _ . . . _wanted _this boy.

What kind of people would they marry? There was no way I'd be attending _that _high school reunion. They'd probably show up with axe murderers.

The bell rang then, signalling the end of class, and we all skittered out into the hallway - me praying that I didn't share any other classes with _him_.

* * *

_. . . am I wrong for thinking out the box from where I stay . . ._

_. . . am I wrong for saying that I choose another way . . ._

_. . . I ain't tryna do what everybody else doing . . ._

_. . . just cause everybody doing what they all do . . ._

* * *

**_A/N: _**_He really is an asshole, isn't he?_

_Do you understand why these girls are so obsessed with him? Cause Bella and I don't._

_As always, leave me your thoughts!_

* * *

**_~ Madison ~_**


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